Chapter 154: Pagan
*Before they were hunted and killed for their beliefs, they were called healers. Wise women. And even seers. – Pagan*
Knuckles walked into the front office of the fab shop in the warehouse district. The woman at the front desk looked up from her romance novel. She almost looked relieved when she saw the cut.
“You looking for someone?”
“Pagan.”
She nodded and called Pagan over the intercom. Her duty done, she took a drink from her motivational water bottle and went back to her book.
Knuckles knew that Nessie was an avid reader herself and thought about asking about the book. The look he got when he started to speak, convinced him otherwise.
Instead, he stood uncomfortably in the strange silence. Even the water cooler in the corner knew better than to make any noise.
Just when Knuckles considered asking if she knew how long it would be, the door behind her opened. Pagan smiled at Knuckles and motioned him to come on back.
The back portion of the building was full of noise. Welders sparked. Hydraulic hammers pounded while manual ones pinged. There was a large forge that was roaring with flames. At a few other points, there were smaller forges, only about half were being used.
“I’ve got an apprentice on the plasma cutter.” Pagan yelled over all the noise. “Let me check on her, then we’ll go talk.”
Knuckles nodded in agreement. What else was he going to do? Tell a man who bent metal to his will no? Thanks, no.
Pagan spoke with a girl who looked like she should still be in school. They discussed some things that they each understood but Knuckles was lost on. He was looking around at the shop when Pagan nudged his arm and pointed to the large open roll up garage door.
“What can I do for you?” Pagan asked as they stepped outside into the cool air.
Typically, eighty would not feel all that cool. But after being inside the fab shop, it almost felt cold.
“Two things. Possibly, in the breakdown of things, more than two.”
“Let’s start with the simple one.”
Knuckles pulled out the folded papers from his pocket and handed them over. “Nessie was talking about this. I was wondering if you could build it.”
Pagan looked at the print outs and the notes that had been written on them. There were X’s over what he didn’t want and circles around what he did.
“You have a preference as to how all of this is put together?”
“You run the fab shop. I have no clue what to do. I just found pictures of what she wanted. How it goes together, I’ll leave that to you and your team.”
“Ok, I’ll get it drawn up for her to sign off on.”
“No. This is going to be a surprise.”
“OK, where’s it going to go?”
“Outside the kitchen and yes, I already talked to Toad.” Knuckles said and Pagan grinned because he was going to ask. “I’m paying for it, not the club.”
“I’ll get it worked up and get it to you.” He handed the papers back and pulled a hot pink marker out of his pocket. “Give me an email. And pink shows up better on some metals.”
“I’m not judging.” Knuckles replied as he took it and wrote down his work email.
“What’s the other set of questions?”
“Are you really a pagan or is it just your name?”
Pagan laughed as he walked over to a cooler and grabbed a couple of waters. He offered one to Knuckles and then went and sat at the table under the carport.
“My family has been here a long time. When all the Salem shit was going down, they were the only witches in the area. Not a damned one went on trial or was accused. Every single victim was innocent and practicing Christians.”
“Sore subject?”
“Ashlyn has been getting picked on at school.” He ran a hand through his hair and reached for the pack of cigarettes that was no longer there. With a huff, he found the pack of gum and offered it to Knuckles.
“Not much of a gum person.”
“Me neither. But, Alyssa’s asthma makes me not much of a cigarette person either.” Pagan popped a cinnamon flavored square in his mouth and put the box on the table. “I doubt you’re looking to start practicing. So, I’m guessing this has to do with a certain red headed witch?”
“Is she? A witch?”
“She probably doesn’t call herself that. It’s the umbrella term. But she practices. I don’t know flavor she is.”
“Flavor?” Knuckles asked confused and Pagan laughed.
“It’s what my mom always says. Like in Christianity you have a million protestant flavors and a half dozen catholic flavors. Each Coven is different, a different flavor, if you will.”
“What are you?”
“Not practicing. I was raised in the Coven of Dark, not to be confused with black magic. The Coven of Dark falls somewhere in the gray area. Maybe a little on the darker side.” He gave a little grin and shoulder shrug. “Won’t curse anyone, because what you put out, comes back to you.”
“Do you know what *flavor* Nessie is?”
“From what she has said, I would guess she is a white witch. If you really want to learn, go see my sister.”
“I just go see your sister and say, hey, I think my girlfriend is a witch?”
“Yeah. My sister owns the Wiccan bookstore over in Ridgeview. Just go tell I sent you.” Pagan glanced at the door and nodded. “I gotta go be a foreman again.”
“Thanks.” Knuckles said as they both stood up.
As they both walked in opposite directions, Knuckles stopped and turned. “Hey, what’s your sister’s name?”
“Ciara.”
